He did quite like shooting the baubles
Fandom: Sherlock (BBC)
Pairing: Sherlock/John
Spoilers: None (:
Length: 674
Summary: Sherlock did not approve of the tinsel which dropped small sparkly ribbons everywhere. He disliked the tree which blocked his view of the window and all the goings on in the street below. He strongly disagreed with the notion that John might need a 'day off' to spend with his 'family and friends'.
Notes: written for caecandy who asked for Sherlock/John with no other prompts and since it was christmas time I wrote christmas fic (:
Sherlock did not approve of the tinsel which dropped small sparkly ribbons everywhere. He disliked the tree which blocked his view of the window and all the goings on in the street below. He strongly disagreed with the notion that John might need a 'day off' to spend with his 'family and friends'.
He did quite like shooting the baubles, but that was in no way an indication that he approved of this 'Christmas' concoction forcing its way into his flat and his life where it really had no place.
John did not see his acceptance of the decorations as the heroic sacrifice it truly was. "I don't actually work for you, Sherlock. I can go home for as many days as I like."
Sherlock props his head on the couch and shoots a particularly loathsome bauble. "What if someone dies?"
John rolls his eyes in that way he only does when Sherlock is around and thrusts a second shirt into his bag, even though he'll only need one shirt because he's only going for one day. "You'll deal with it, I'm sure. You did solve crimes before you met me."
Sherlock blows the top of his gun because he saw it in one of those stupid movies John watches sometimes. "What if I die?"
John lifts his feet to pick up today's paper (or last week's paper, or possibly tomorrow's paper... Sherlock loses track of these things). "Try not to," he says, which is sensible advice but doesn't solve the current problem. "Mrs Hudson has promised to bring you some Christmas dinner back when she returns from visiting her family. Maybe you should try and get out, go see Mycroft."
"He's busy." Sherlock tosses the gun from hand to hand and thinks about shooting the tinsel. "People to see, things to bomb, how about you stay here?"
"Christmas is a time for family, Sherlock."
"It's a Christian appropriation of a pagan festival. With decorations." John pushes him sideways so he's only taking up half the couch and John can grab his jacket from where Sherlock was lying on it. "Anyway," Sherlock adds. "I'm your boyfriend. That's family."
John turns bright red. "One time, Sherlock. Having sex one time does not make you my boyfriend. It just... complicates things and you said you'd forget it."
"I never forget the important things." John stops pressing against his arm so he grabs at the other man before falling back across the sofa, contriving to bring John down on top of him. "How about twice? Would you have to stay then?"
John's breath catches a little. "If I say no, will we still have sex?"
Sherlock considers this for all of half a second. "Yes."
John rolls off the couch some time later, slumping on the floor with his head against Sherlock's arm. "Remember when you said you were married to your work, and there was no way we would ever end up dating?"
Sherlock remembers that conversation very clearly. It is one of the few times he has ever been wrong. "I thought it was like the decorations. You asked me if you could put them up even though you knew the answer was no and then when I said no you put them up anyway."
John stands up and grabs his bag, swinging it over one shoulder. "And I was right about them, they do make the place feel more Christmassy."
Sherlock doesn't say 'you're still leaving' because he doesn't believe in stating the obvious. "We could have sex again," he offers as John walks towards the door. "And you could stay."
John glances back, then sighs and crosses the room to look down at Sherlock's face. From this angle, he is upside down, but still John. "You could come with me."
"It's a family thing, I wasn't invited."
John holds out a hand and smiles. "You're my boyfriend. That's family."
Sherlock dislikes the tinsel and the trees and the having-to-leave-London.
But Harriet laughs when he shoots all her baubles and the sex is awesome.